


A Storm of Emotions

by DandelionsandTigerlilies



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Emotions, Open to Interpretation, Original Fiction, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 11:16:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17703335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DandelionsandTigerlilies/pseuds/DandelionsandTigerlilies
Summary: Short stories by me, revolving around  emotions





	1. Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> These short stories revolve around emotions. Each story is individual: told from different perspectives. Hope you like it! constructive criticism is appreciated. :)

She was always invisible to them. Everything was about her sister. They never saw her as she was, what she could have done in this large world. Her hopes, her dreams, hobbies..... she doubted they even cared to memorize them. They never did anything to make her feel wanted. Family? she always found herself wondering when that word was brought up. After school, they never asked her about her day, she found herself seated with her family during dinner listening to her sister's rants, parents listening with adoring eyes. 

Am I invisible? or is it something I did? were the kind of questions running through her mind. If she was noticed, her parents asked her to take on her sisters examples; "look at her, why can't you be like your sister?" "I can't be perfect, I'm my own person, if you wanted a perfect carbon copy of your elder daughter, why was I born? How would you know without giving me a chance?" she wanted say, but for the fear of destroying the thin thread connecting her to her "family" was what kept her from saying out loud her need to be acknowledged. But she couldn't blame her sister. It was not her fault. Never hers.

If this was to go on, she knew it wasn't long before she snapped and did something drastic. But, they never noticed. She felt like she was there, but was not there at the same time. Finally, she had enough, she needed an escape.

One windy winter's evening, when snowflakes were falling lightly and carpeting everything with a beautiful layer of white powder, she slipped out quietly. She could hear their laughter and could picture them in their warm living room, hot mugs of cocoa in their hands, listening to their elder daughter talk.

Her only thoughts were of the beautiful snowflakes that fell around her and on her. It was so peaceful. She reveled quietly as the murmur of voices faded. She kept walking, a purple scarf covering her neck and face. No one was there to watch her, to send her off to a new journey, to start a new life. No one, except perhaps the dog that was howling as she walked away, leaving behind her memories from past years. 

By the time they noticed, she was long gone. A solitary figure with a purple scarf flowing behind swallowed by the dark, hours ago.

Sometime later, when they noticed, they sent a search party for her, and when they did find her, there were tears and sorrys and I forgive you's, and they lived happily ever after. 

 

 

 

 

I wish I could have said that, or that it was true. Unfortunately, reality isn't like that. It is cruel. They did organize searches around the neighborhood for some days, but it was more out of necessity and image than actual care. She was long gone. I found out that they had organized a funeral for her, but after some "mourning," it was all over. They went back to their own lives.

As for her, well............ she did get somewhere. Maybe she started a new life. Found happiness. Maybe the snow swallowed her. All I know is that she never looked back. She had goals and dreams she could and would make into reality. She was driven by her newly acquired sense of freedom, and I hope she made full use of it. 

How would I know?  
because her hopes and dreams were mine.


	2. Anger

It was dark, swirling around him and in him. It wasn't visible, of course, but he somehow knew it was dark, and that it swirled around him, he supposed. Like a drop of black paint in a glass of water, dancing, whirling around, spreading, and when disturbed, lashing out. A tangle of twisted thorns choking what was once a beautiful garden ornament; forgotten. Uncared for. Left for nature to run it's course.

And he sat there, watching. There was nothing even interesting about the view obviously, just a dark street hidden in shadows. It was the people that kept his mind occupied. The few people milling about, coming and going like ghosts. Who knows what on their minds, not a care in the world. A woman slumped in a corner, face hidden, hair lank and greasy. Probably high, if the smoke was any indication. Death loomed gigantic over the street. Dozens of deaths, more to follow.

Nothing to do, so he sat and judged these people. They weren't always like this, he knew. The woman must have had dreams and hopes of her own. Victims of circumstance, or victims made by themselves. Not that he was in a better place. Oh no, as if his condition was any better than the people that he observed.

Still sitting in his seat by the window, he thought. He thought about the time when he would finally be able to get out of this depressing, dreary, soul sucking place. This, this poor excuse of an orphanage, which would never be more than a cage for him. He thought about their sticky fingers and plastic grins, and how he was never like them, and would never be.   
inferiordullutterlydisgustingunworthy  
And he thought about how they would never like him, them with their fake voices and fake smiles on their fake faces..   
fakefakeplastickyandfake.   
Not that he cared. He'd make them pay, just after he would break through the bars of this cage. 

 

And as he sat there and thought, the dark grew, swirling around, spreading. Encompassing. Eddying, and agitated, like it was sentient; had a mind of it's own.   
Carefully and patiently waiting. Waiting for the moment, and finally, lashing out with all the pent up hatefearwantdisgust when disturbed. 

Oh, the moment would come, and he would finally be free of this cage


	3. Apathy

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter....

where am I?

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter.... 

who am I?

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter....

does it even matter?

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter.... 

I guess not.

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter.... 

Are they coming?

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter.... 

.....I suppose I misheard.

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter.... 

Questions, questions. I have tons of those. 

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter.... 

Though answers will never find me. I know. 

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter.... 

what is being? what is me?

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter.... 

Rhetorical. All of them are statements, you know. 

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter.... 

They turned their backs, and I? I did the only thing I could. 

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter.... 

..............I stopped. Doesn't make sense? when has it ever?

drip drop drip drop drip drop...... splatter.


	4. Defeat

As he lay there,

He looked up st the sky. Looking up; an endless stretch of dreams that were dreamt, wonder felt, and scenarios imagined 

Oh what a bitter taste, this defeat.

Even then, what more could he do?

He'd given everything. Anything; all he had ever had, earned and owned.

His heart, his soul, his mind. Was even his body to be given to another?

They moved on.

When he fell, there was no-one to catch him.

Knowing this could almost be called reassuring, something habitually ingrained into his very being.

And life would go on and on and on. 

After all, when did time ever slow for a mortal? Oh no, it would tick away

Every second stripping away his humanity.

This feeling, the only one he knew now. It wasn't welcome.

No, it was never welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: All Rights Reserved. All the following stories are my own, and are copyright. Please do not recreate, rewrite, translate, or post these stories on other websites without my permission.


End file.
